PR 

3SSI 











•i^H 




' f ' 




1, ,» 




«, 


J ' < 


k - ,* * 


^Jy^ ', ■ 


. :>- • 




.*'** ' ' *" 


.!^.X' 


'.J. " 


. ' ;. 




•a 


"v':j' 


■^V i 




vf \ 


'.'3 -''.v 





LEAVES OF LAUREL; 



OR 



NEW PROBATIONARY ODES. 






LEAVES OF LAUREL; 



OB 



NEW PROBATIONARY ODES, 



FOR 



THE VACANT LAUREATSHIP 



COLLECTED AND EDITED 

BY Q. Q. AND W. W 



Yet once more, Oh ye Laurels !" Milton. 



LONDON: 

PRINTED FOR T. BECKET AND J. PORTER, 

PALL-MALL . 

1813. 



CVY^ 



%. 






As the Authors of the present Collection of Odes cannot intend 
io render themselves ridiculous^ so neither have the Editors any 
sinister intention of pointing their ridicule at the said Authors. If 
on so serious an occasion, any thing can be considered as laughable, 
it must be the Laureatship itself; an office which, perhaps, may 
not reflect much credit on the Donor or the Receiver. 



^^.L^S^ Vo 



Printed by W. Bulmer and Co. Cleveland-row. 



/ 



LEAVES OF LAUREL, 8fc. 



" vTooD niglit to the Laureat! but since he's no more. 
Said old Saul,* 'tis but foolish his fate to deplore; 
' Perchance / may catch the proud cloak he lets fall" — 
^^ Perchance /may catch" — said the rhyming-men all 
And re-echoed the sigh that was breath'd by old Saul 



'I 



* Great confusion has arisen in Grub and other streets from 
the similarity of name in two of the rival candidates for the 
Laurel. We fear that we shall not lessen the mystery by our 
delicate mode of printing the appellatives S — y and S — y. 
Rumour, however, now mentions the younger Ambigu as the 
favourite. It is added (what the public will be delighted to hear) 
that the ode is to be aboUshed ; and that another sinecure (which 
may not be so delightful) is to be added to the list by the Lau- 
reatship. What will Mri Banks say to this ? Will he insist on 
the restoration of the Ode ? Phoebus forbid! — The Town would 
then indeed exclaim with Shenstone — 

" My Banks will be furnish 'd with bees 
" Whose music invites you to sleep — " &c. 

B 




2 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 

There were C — b — 11, and R — g — ^s, and wild W — 1— .r 

S — tt, 
And B — r — n, and S — th — ^y, and who was there not ? 
Each determined his foe hors de combat to put, 
And to win the one hundred and sweet malmsey butt. 
Oh whence this strange fervour? — the surgeons, 'tis said. 
Sacrilegiously curious, have cut up the dead ; 
(As the critics the living) — and now ask you why? 
'^ He sets the birds singing who opens the P — e." 

The judge was Grimaldi: in hardier times, 
A chamberlain dared to decide upon rhymes, 
With the aid of Delpini ;* — more modest we're grown. 
And the judge of this cause is Grimaldi alone. 
At the Wells of Old Sadler, where Islington Spa f 
Has ceas'd her scorbutic frequenters to draw. 
As at Wells of old Helicon, dwelt the high judge. 
And would not one step from his dwelling-place budge. 
Therefore C — b — 11, and R — g — s,and wild W — 1 — r 

S — tt. 
And B— r — n, and S — th — y, and God knows who not, 

* See the " Probationary Odes." 
t Still called New Tunbridge Weill. 



LEAVES OF LAUREL, S 

In the Pentonville Stages together repair. 

To submit their bold verse to the great critic there. 

It was noon ; and fierce August remorselessly gave 
His cloudless effulgence to wood and to wave ; 
On a ship o'er thy water, thou New-River-Head ! 
Whose poop burnt with gold, sate the censor so dread : 
Little boats at its side held the poets so gay. 
And each grew impatient to flourish away : 
When their umpire declared, that he hop*d for the pleasure 
Of the "P — s — s of H— e," in one candidate's measure; 
Or, if G — t — e fulfiU'd what was promis'd by Hope, 
Perchance she might offer more suitable scope. 
On a theme so dissolvingly soft and refin'd. 
And so worthy that songster's compassionate mind ; 
WTio shortly, yet sternly, arose at the call. 
And thus caught at the mantle the Laureat let fall. 



^^ On thy suburban bank, fair Harrow-weald I 
*^ Although thine airy downs are now enclos'd, 
** And tasteless ploughshares furrow up each field, 
" Yet once the Laureat's verse-fill'd head repos'd :* 

* The Laureat lived at Pinner in Middlesex ; in the neigh- 
bourhood of which village is the lately enclosed, and now ten- 
derly lameated, common of Harrow-weald. 



4 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 

^^ Alas, those eyes in cloud-capp'd night are clos'd ! 
*^ Now from his grave alone sweet wild-flowers spring, 
'^ (His grave of briar'd turf, and moss composM) 
" Wild-flowers he gather'd when on earth, to fling 
^' O'er Britain's matchless Queen, o'er Britain's matchless 
King. 

^' Oft, where the bumble-bee, with buzzing hum, 
" At many-colour'd evening's careless hour, 
" Seem'd, by the whispering air, in act to come, 
" And rous'd the viewless myriads round his bower, 
^^ P — e too would buzz and hum — the song-soul'd power 
" Of court-born panegyric on his tongue ; 
'^ His ivy-mantled brow like some grey fower 
'^ Enwreath'd with frontlet green, which off he flung, 
" To deck that Queen and King, whom ceaselessly he sung. 



" But now 



'* 'Tis too much, 'tis too much ! if a tear would decide, 
Quoth Grimaldi,* '^ the cause has already been tried ; 

* It is not generally understood, but it is nevertheless true, 
that Signer G. is a great master of the pathetic. Those who 
have seen " Kaloc, or the Pirate-Slave," &c. &c. &c. will not 
doubt the propriety of his seriousness as judge on this grave 
this high occasion. 



LEAVES OF LAUREL. 

" And^ if Hope's faded pleasures the bosom thus melt, 
'^ What has Memory more of such pain to be felt ?" 

He spoke ; and, with energy chasten'd by taste, 
With each word well-applied, and no thought run to 

waste, 
(Or the bard, in this effort, his lute has disgraced) 
Rose R — g — s, and plaintively murmur'd for P — e 
A quietus, which made every candidate cry. 



\ 



*' The fading moon-beams part from Pinner-green, 
*' The misty dawn steals mournful o'er the scene 3 
*^ No human step pervades the dubious gloom, 
" But nature sorrows o'er the Laureates tomb. 
'^ Pale hang the bay-leaves on their drooping stalk, 
" And withering ivy strews his favourite walk. 
^^ The silent dews their fragrant life exhale, 
" The wakening woodland feels the chilly gale ; 
^' The stirring leaves a fancied requiem breathe, 
" And the grass sighs for him who sleeps beneath, 

" Then, in this isle, where patriot bosoms feel 
" Their own embodied in the public weal, 
" Can nerveless age, can glowing youth, deny 
*^ One tearful tribute to the grave of P — e ? 



LEAVES OF LAUREL. 



^^ P — e, who each year with new-plum'd praise could sing 
" The matchless Consort, and the matchless King ?" 



[same ; 

" The thought" said Grimaldi, '^ the words are the 
^^ The poets but differ in measure and name ; 
^^ Or, if one be more forceful, his brother's more chaste, 
^^ And the scale, turn'd by genius, is balanc'd by taste." — ^ 

— At the word rose a rival, in racing-horse haste — 



" The summer day throws dying fire 
^^ From Stanm ore's height, from Harrow's spire ;* 
^^ Fair Headstone's t lowlands swiftly fade 
" In gathering mist and closing shade ; 
*^ And, Cardinal ! the pensive hour 
^' Sheds sadness on thy ruin'd bower. 
^^ Dim flits the bat o'er Harrow- weald, 
^^ And owl hoots hoarse in Pinner-field : 
^^ *Tis darker yet, and yet more still, 
" By watery vale, and wooded hill ; 

* The topographical imagination of the poet, here reciting, 
has actually transported him from the New River Head to a 
summer-house in the neighbourhood of Stanraore; and he is 
now depicting the rural objects around him with the utmost 
accuracy. 

t Cardinal Wolsey had a house at Headstone. 



LEAVES OP LAUREL. 

'^ Like baby husb'd on motber's breast, 
'' Meek nature droops, and sinks to rest. 

*^ Tbe moon, balf-hid, and half-display*d, 
'^ Shows like warm blush of Highland maid -, 
" But, redder as it gleams through Heaven, 
" Blushes like sinner unforgiven, 
'^ Why sleeps it thus on new-rais*d grave ? 
" Minstrel ! it sleeps, thy pride to save. 
" Go, ponder o'er that solemn sight, 
^' Go, ponder by the red moon-light, 
" And read such aweful warning right ! 
" That grave is emblem of distress 
^^ To dreaming child of happiness ; 
" That grave thy wandering step will guide, 
" In winter, or in summer tide ; 
" That grave will bid thee put aside 
*^ (Aside, proud bard, for ever put !) 
" Both 100/. and malmsey butt. 
<^ Oh ! follow such monition high, 
" And, Minstrel, say not-^« I am P — e !" * 

• See a subsequent note, page 18. If the last rumour, 
there mentioned, be true, the above will be an unconscious 
self- warning indeed ! There is something touching in this sort 
of prophecy. 



8 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 

" 'Tis grand/' quoth Grimaldi, " 'tis wondroiisly grand, 
^' But it runs, I should think, rather easy in hand ; 
" Yet I know not how boundless that spirit may be, 
^^ Which can only be great when 'tis perfectly free." 

But say who is He that advances so fast. 
He has almost obscur'd the rcnovn of the last ? 



^^ Where is the breath of P — e ? for ever blown 
'^ O'er the wide welkin, and to nothing turn'd ! 
'' He, who once made the listening Court his own, 
^' His courtly incense now in vain has burn'd. 
^' Can all, by saint, sage, sophist, taught or learn'd,* 
^' Refill this empty P^ — e? — -or raise his crust ? 
'' Tlius perish false and true; thus, all inurn'd 
^' In one sad nothingness, return they must [dust. 

" To dust, from whence they rose, to dull, dark, f dirty, 

* Quere " Deathly Bust?'^ Shakspeare has " dusty death.''' 
Why should not adjectives and substantives change sides and 
back again, in the Dance of Death ? Note by the Author. 

+ The poet here seems to have stolen from himself — See 
C— de H— d— 

" Can all saint, sage, or sophist ever writ, 
" People this lonely tow'r, this tenement refit?" 
But, indeed, the whole thought may have been suggested by the 
well-known epitaph on Eleanor Bachelor — 

" Now here she doth lie, and make a dirt pie," &c. 



1.EAVES OF LAUREL. 9 

*^ Wherefore deride my melancholy rhyme ? 
" Why scotFat sorrow's scroll ? — for what is man? 
" A baseless bubble on the tide of time ! 
" His fast how long, his feast how short in span, 
" Balram three days to four weeks Rhamazan 1 * 
" Blind beetle, spiteful spider, phantom frail, 
^* What are thy ways ? how speeds thy proudest plan ? 
^^ All that thou fear'st shall hap, thou hop'st shall fail, 
'' And Tsedium's self shall tire to tell thy twice-told tale. 

'^ Where is the Laureat progeny of yore, 
" Yclept illustrious in their little day ? 
" They blazed like wills of wisp, and were no more— 
^^ Elkanah, Bayes himself, have passed away, 
" Albeit they drank like us this vital ray ! 
^^ We too, eftsoons, shall wear oblivion's rust, 
*^ Like those, who, whilome, in close coffin lay — 
^' Weak, wandering, worthless man ! say what thy trust ? 
" When dust is all in all, and all in all is dust !"t 



* Our Turkish readers will be pleased with this allusidn. To 
others we would observe, that the said fast and feast are of the 
proportional durations above-mentioned. 

+ The Author seems to have borrowed (what few hare to 
lend, and fewer still would borrow) an inimitable burlesque upon 
himself in this passage. 



10 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 

^^ 'TIs fine !" said the judge ; " but I see not indeed 
*^ If the poet is dust, how his verse should succeed ? 
" But let this one promise his energy raise — 
^' Time shall honour the dust which inherits his praise." 

— ~" Why, bless me ! who's here V cried the judge in 

alarm, 
'^ 1 see the peer-poet whom B — It — n could charm ! 
" And though many a rival so fierce intervenes, 
^' I acknowledge the bard who frequented the scenes." 

But just as that bard was beginning to sing 
Of Elizabeth's glories on Sydney's high string; 
And just as he breaih'd each majestical word [lord;"* 
To some ^^ great," or some "good," or some ^^ wonderful 
Burst forth a wild measure, whose vigour might warp 
Even England to listen to Erin's high harp ; 
If Erin's high harp has not here lost its tone. 
And its share in so courtly a contest will own. 



^' Oh ! the days are gone, when Dryden bright 

^* The laurel wore 

" When the cry for song from morn till night. 
Was *^ more," still '^ more !" 

* See the noble Lord's Poems; which contain models for 
dedicatory addresses. 



LEAVES OF LAUREL. 1] 

New bays may bloom^ 
And bards may come 

Of milder^ calmer vein — 
But there's nothing half so strong in life. 

As old John's strain I 
Oh ! there's nothing half so strong in life. 

As old John's strain ! 
Though the harp to fresher fame may soar. 

Now stale P — e's gone ; 
Though it win the wise, so deaf before. 

To hear its tone 
'Twill never gain 
So high a strain 

In all its noon of praise 
As the lays we drink with ravish'd ear. 

Those soul-felt lays. 
Which, at every pause, call forth a tear 

For poor old Bayes ! 
Oh ! that royal feast is ne'er forgot 

For Persia won ; 
Still it nobly paints the spirit hot 
Of Philip's son— 



12 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 

How could he write. 



In one short night,* 

What years may hope in vain ! 
Oh ! there's nothing half so strong in life^, 

As old John's strain ! 
Oh ! there's nothing, &c. &c. 



Grimaldi was going to speak, and say " Nice /*' 
When a soft sonneteer issued forth in a trice. 



*^ Sadler ! I see thy Wells ; yet cannot see 

•^ Thine old Grimaldi — Ah ! the senior's gone, 
*' And we are censur'd by his son alone. 
" 'Tis sad, at Sadler's Wells, that bards, that we, 
^^ Should strive for laurels with small honour worn : 
" And yet I know not, if by I — ch — 's bank 
^' Greater my honour, or more high my rank : 
" Then should this water-scene of strife be borne 5 
'^ Then should I droop o'er P — 's suburban bier, 
" And shed the tuneful tributary tear : 

'^ I will And oh ! if rivals throw me back, 

^^ And snatch the bays — ^be mine the butt of sack !" 

* Alluding to the known story of" Alexander's Feast" having 
been composed by Dryden in one night. 



LEAVES OF LAUREL, 13 



Grimaldi grew angry; but, just as he frownM, 
From the judge a dry poet more sympathy found. 



" With tatter'd Gown, and Hair that loosely flies, 
'* Down Pinner Lanes the Muse of Monarchs hies ; 
'' The Birth -day Muse has lost her darling Son, 
^^ For P — e, James P — e, the Poet Laureat's gone. 

^^ The Village Hinds assemble round his Bier, 
^^ And Richard Wilkins sheds the tenderest Tear. 
"' Richard himself a Poet had become, 
" And left for idle Verse his busy Home. 
" Long, over Land and Sea, he bent his Path ; 
^* And now, worn out by Fortune's Wrongs and Wrath, 
'^ Home he return'd ; and not one human Eye 
" Or knew the Poet, or his Poetry. 
*^ The Sexton late had died ; and wayward Chance, 
^^ Choosing poor Richard's Fortunes to advance, 
^' Made him. the Sexton ; and with tearful Eye 
*' He buried thus the tuneful Corse of P — e.*' 



'^ This is nature itself I" quoth the censor — but lo ! 
Something simpler than nature's beginning to flow. 



14 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 



^^ A child so small, I cannot tell 

'^ How small she was indeed, 
^^ Met me, while walking in the dell, 

^^ That's nigh to Pinner mead. 
^^ She puU'd me by the coat ; and oh ! 
*^ She look'd, as if she wish'd I'd go, 
" Where stood a cottage in the lane 
" That borders upon Pinner plain. 
" I went with her — and then she said, 
" The Poet Laureat, P— e, is dead." 
" Ah me ! I answered sad ; and so 
^^ We reached the little house of woe. 

'^ The wicker gate was open'd wide, 
*^ The flowers were trodden down beside ; 
*' It look'd, as if some friend had past 
^' Eager on P — e to look his last. 
^^ I know not — but I heav'd a sigh — 
" The little child stood weeping by. 

" We enter'd at the cottage door, 
^^ And saw the man who was no more. 
<^ That child — ^I never will forsake her — 
" Though sneered at by the undertaker"- • 



LEAVES OF LAUREL, 15 

With a pitiful sob here the story broke off, 
And hard-hearted they felt who were tempted to scoflf ; 
There was something so good in the bard^ yet so silly, 
That you lov'd him and laugh'd at him too^ willy nilly. 

And hark! here's another! whose drawl makes you doubt. 
If he's preaching, or praying, or what he's about. 



*^ A poisonous tree's the laurel ; yet can bear 
'^ Fruit much more fam'd than apple or than pear : 

^^ Therefore, perhaps, it was esteem'd by P — e 

" And yet, on second thoughts, I know not why. 

*^ Though laurel leaves the conqueror's brow adorn, 

*^ Though laurel leaves by conquering bards are worn, 

*^ With laurel leaves did Donellan destroy 

*^ Sir Theodosius Boughton, yet a boy. 

*' In human things how closely does alloy 

*^ Mingle with purest gold ! this proverb's force 

" Is shown, too clearly, by my own remorse ; 

" Remorse I daili/ feel, for having rais'd 

" The fame of actors, whom I weekly* prais'd. 

• Other MSS. read " weakly'^ See the Preface to R— m— c. 



16 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 



^' And yet, reviving from its deathlike rest, 

'^ R — m — e, so long by Sh — r — d — n* supprest, 

*^ Shall hail me father, spite of the fool's jest ; 

" Spite of stage-faults, in closet read, shall bear 

^^ Fruit sweeter far than apple or than pear, 

'" Mellow renown ! — but still, perforce, I dread 

^^ These poisonous bays ; still wish them on my head. 

" How win the prize ? the drawback how avoid ? 

" What thing on earth is perfectly enjoy 'd ? 

^^ Yon centipede, indeed" f 



^^ Nice, nice l" said the judge — but strange moanings 

forP— e 
On a bard of pale aspect attracted each eye. 



" Daylight ! and yet no sleep ? 
" O'er Sadler's Wells so deep, 

* Must not this gentleman feel some remorse for having sup- 
pressed R — m — e so long ? Quere by the Author. 

t See R — m — e. The j udge is so struck with the beauty of this 
allusion, which he remembers to have heard on the Stage, that 
he cannot help interrupting the author with his usual note of ap- 
probation," nice,nicer' and, before the perfect enjoyments of the 
centipede can be described, the poet is overwhelmed by another 
of the Lake or Water fraternity. This, therefore, is another in- 
stance of the involuntary Aposiopesis. See page 4. 



LEAVES OF LAUREL. 17 

" O^er Islington's exalted spire, 
" O'er Pentonville, the festal fire 
" Streams on the blazing town from every station, 
" And heightens Victory's Illumination. 
" No falling rain-drop damps 
'^ The lustre of the lamps ; 
" To thee, the Mighty-One of Spain, they shine, 
" And all this blaze of stateliness is thine. 
^^ Fast fled the French o'er valley and o'er mountain, 
" Nearly was King Joe shot by Captain Wyndham : 
" Proudly wast thou exhibited in England, 

"Staff of the Marshall* 
" Horns ! horns! around the Square— 
^' What do these horns declare ? 
" Loud as Orlando's horn from Roncevaux, 
^^ From the same vales the Fall of France they blow ! 
" Hear them ! thou modern Charlemagne I oh hear ! 

^* Though Dresden now is not so near 
*^ To Bloomsbury-Square, as Paris on that day, 
« To Fontarabia ! 

" Joy, joy to Wellington, 
*^ The glorious Wellington, 
" Joy ! — in the passes of the Pyrenees, 
** Passes that never saw such passings through as these, 
♦ AtVauxhall!!! 

c 



18 LEAVES OF LAUREL. 

^^ Where hollow winds with mountain echoes sport, 

" Soult has been vanquished at Jean Pied de Port. 

'' Thy 27th and 28th, July ! 

*^ Sweird the loud battle's cry ; 
'' Till, when the harvest moon in youth appear'd, 
^' Abisbal's Conde, who no Frenchman fear'd, 

" Succour'd brave Rowland Hill, 

" Yet mask'd thy towers, Pamplona ! still — 

*^ How much more calm is Pinner green ! 

'^ There P — e's untimely tomb is seen, 

*^ Tomb of the green in age, 
" Tomb of the tuneful-one !— who still could sing 
" To Britain's Queen, to Britain's King, 

*' Of annual praise a page.'* 



^^ How beautiful is this !" Grimaldi cried ; 
But now, that older candidate* he spied. 



* See the first Note ; Tt'hich names the younger S — y as the 
prohable successor of P — e. But the older S — y was first to be 
the man; and we edited before the tables were turned against 
him. The reader and the candidate, we hope, will excuse our 
still alluding to the earlier report. — Tros, Rutulusve fuat, nulla 
discrimine habemus! Indeed a third report now prei^aiisj and 
the " siller" and the sack are said to be destined for the Pegasus 
(or Posthaste Poet) of the North ; who sl«eps and eats saddled 
and bridled, and is always ready to start. See note p. 7. 



LEAVES OF LAUREL. 19 

Who seerrCd determin'd in his purse to put 

The 100/., and quaff the malmsey butt; 

Not caring if himself the hut became, 

And nobly trusting to his former fame. 

^^ I know thee by thy chin, and hoary hair* — 

" To claim thy right what younger bard will dare? 

*^ I know thee !" — said the judge — But now — dire chance 

(So will the stealing foot of time advance) 

Sounded the gong, that every evening tells 

The glorious opening of great Sadler's Wells. . 

Then S — ^tt to see his own dear R — k — y flew ;f 

Then R — g — s sigh*d to see C — 1 — b — s too ; 

Then S — th — y, frighten'd at his own dire curse. 

Felt poor Ladurlad's fate becoming worse. 

Who saw such quantities of water brought 

To raise his Water-poet's watery thought. 

Still dry himself ! — then, all but one, they swear, -^ 

For Laureat honours they no longer care; \ 

And C — b — 11 ceas'd to hope, arid B — r — n to despair, j 

* As the Signer G. is by extraction a countryman, or at least 
a neighbour of Virgil's, we cannot wonder at this similarity of 
expression. 

t This poem has been aqua-dramatized with great success at 
Sadler's Wells. The two lovers brought on the stage together 
with the heroine have a very striking eflfect; and forcibly 
remind us of the Lady and the Two Prentices ; and (mutatis 
mutandis) of the Rival Queens ; of Lucy and Folly, &c. &c. 



20 LEAVES OP LAUREL. 

With general candour they confess it base. 

To praise a monarch, even to his face ; 

With general candour they confess it dull. 

To start, like Stage, when empty or when full. — * 

Grimaldi grfnn'd-— and, welcoming his grin, 
All, but the rugged Cheerilus,t begin ' 

To smile approval on their censor's wit. 
And sound his praise from boxes and from pit. 

Then, jovous band 1 retiring from the play 
To neighbouring coffee-house, % the rhymesters say, 
'^ Grimaldi only can this cause decide, 
'^ Grimaldi only can this ode provide ! 
^' When dying Laureats yield their butts and bays, 
'^ When birth-days ask their periodic praise, 
" Grimaldi best can judge, and best can sing 
'^ Britannia's poets, and Britannia's king." 



* " Twice a year, till the ode we annul), 
"Our Laureat must play " Goodman Bull." 
t Chaerilus — 

" Dan Chaerilus was Poet-Laureat made" — 
u iiie 

'* Chaerilus, incultis qui versibus, ac mali natis, 
" Retulit acceptos, regale numisraa, Philippos — 
" Qui capit," &c. And here is a Fillip for him ! 

X The Old Fool's Head ; opposite the New Ditto, at Sadler's 
Wells. 



C 21 ] 

P. S. " MORE LAST LAURELS !" 

The last of the Pentonville Stage* (which is licensed 
to stop only a hundred times between Paddington and 
Pentonville) having arrived a few moments after the 
public Recitations were closed, the following Vers de 
Society, as extemporaneous substitutes for the Author's 
premeditated Probationary Ode, were privately recited to 
a select party of Fashionables, at the New Fool's Head 
opposite the Old Ditto, with universal approbation. 



" Too late Fm come ! forgive my stay I 

" The coachman's was the crime ! 
" He stcpp'd to drink upon the way, 

" He stopp'd the hundredth time 1 
'' Like hives, well-fiU'd with humming bees, 

" With bees beset around, 
" Thick, as, beneath Hymettian trees, 

^' Those Attic swarms were found ; 
" The coaches kept a constant din, 

^^ With poets stuck about 
*' And Tory bards were always m, 

" And Whigs were always out. 



22 MORE LAST LAURELS. 

" Ah ! vain my hope a place to get 

^^ Before the latest stage ; 
^^ The latest stage had tarried yet, 

'^ Unchid by B— s — y*s rage. 
*^ Why, Venus ! did thy doves refuse 

*^ Their plumage to the wheels ? 
*^ The Lover's heart, the Minstrel's Muse, 

" But one impatience feels. 
^^ Yet who would run from Lisson green 

" Could he, though slowly, ride, 
" Where Gre— n — He on the roof was seen, 

" And Wh — r — nf snug inside ? 
*' And who to sober finishment » 

" Such joyous journey brings, 
" Where poets, peers, and porter lent 

'^ Their spirits to .the springs ?J 

* Near Paddington — where the Poets who live at the west 
instead of the worst end of the town are supposed to meet the 
stage. 

+ How uncertain are human prospects and Pentonville Stage- 
coaches ! A candidate, who took the greatest pains to get a placet 
might as well have lost it ! 

+ Whether the honourable Poet means the springs of the 
Islington Spa, the New River, or the Pentonville Stage, is left to 
the candid reader's judgment; who will not fail to admire an 
expression adapted to so many tastes at once. 



MORE LAST LAURELS. 23 

^^ Then, partial friends ! forgive my stay ! 

^^ The coachman's was the crime ! 
" He stopp'd to drink upon the way, 

" He stopp'd the hundredth time !" 



The subjoined ^' Tale of Terror" was also recited at the 
same place and on the same occasion. . 



^' Why, grim Monk ! in every feature 
*' Are such signs of fear exprest ? 

^* Hast thou murder'd any creature ? 
** Is it conscience breaks thy rest ?' 

^^ Well my visage may alarfn you, 
^^ For I've seen a ghost go by ! 

" Ghost of him who once could charm you, 
'' Gibbering* Ghost of Poet P— e! 

** I, whoVe mark'd thin-sheeted phantoms 
^^ Back returning to their tombs, 

" When the crowing of the bantams 
" Caird them to the Stygian glooms, 

• Other copies read " jabbering.* 



24 , MORE LAST LAURELS. 

'^ Never saw sight so astounding ! 

'^ For the Spectre, in a sigh 
'^ Like a dreamt of whisper sounding, 

" Seem*d to say, '^ 7%e Monk must dieV 

" Will my Poems live ?" — I ask'd him — 
'^ But he shook his mournful head : 

^' Will your own ?" — too hard I task'd him- 
" And the sighing spectre fled I — • 

" Well then may my looks alarm you, 
^^ For I've seen a ghost go by ! 

" Ghost of him who once could charm you, 
^' Gibbering Ghost of Poet P— e !" 



P. P. S. We are requested to state (from authority) that 
W. T. F — z — d, Esq. was one of the earliest applicants, 
at the London office for the Pentonville coaches, for a 
place to Sadler's Wells, on the great day of recitation at 
the New River Head; but was totally disappointed in his 
object. The jealousy of his rivals (thus paying him an 
extorted compliment) is strongly suspected to have occa- 
sioned some improper interference at the Spotted Dog, 
from whence the coaches start. 



INDEX TO THE ODES. 



P— -e of Pinner; or the Suburban Cottage, by T. C. page S 

Pleasures of Poetry, by W. R 5 

The Lay of the Last Laureat, by W. S 6 

" Man was made to Mourn," by L — d B 8 

Middlesex Melodies, by T. M 10 

ASonnet,by The Reverend W. L. B 13 

The Parish-Poet, by the Reverend G. C IS 

"Hush a Bye! Baby Bye!" byW.W 14 

The Resurrection-Tragedy, by S. T. C 15 

The Blessings of a Sinecure, by R. S 16 

A Poem on several Subjects, by the Honourable W. S 21 

The Monk and the Stranger, by M. G. L 23 



London : Printed by W. Bulmer and Co. 
Cleveland Row, St. James's. 



Books printed for Becket and Porter, 81, Pall-mall. 



1. The only Library Edition of the PURSUITS of LITERA- 
TURE, a Poem with Notes, very elegantly printed on a hand- 
some paper by Mr. Bulraer, in Quarto ; to which are added an 
APPENDIX, the Citations translated, and a complete Index. The 
Sixteenth Edition. 

The number printed of this Edition in Quarto being small, 
such persons as are desirous of having copies thereof are re- 
quested to send an early notice to their respective Booksellers, 
or to the Publishers. On Royal paper, £S. Ss. in extra boards. 
On Imperial paper, price £b. bs. in extra boards. 

2. The B A VI AD and M^EVIAD ; to which is annexed the Epis- 
tle to Peter Pindar. By William Gifford, Esq, The eighth 
edition, beautifully printed by Bulmer and Co. price 9s. boards. 

3. ANTICIPATION, by Mr. Tickell ; a few remaining copies, 
price 2s. 

4. AN HEROIC ADDRESS to OLD DRURY, from a NEW 
RENTER, 4to. price Is. 6^. 

Perhaps Queen Mab touch'd him at full o' the Moon 

With a Field-Marshal Manager's battoon. 

And then dream'd he, &c. — Woodward's Prologue. 

5. CAROLINE HERBERT; or THE WIFE. By the late Mrs. 
Cooper, Author of the EXEMPLARY MOTHER, in two vols, 
foolscap 8vo. price 10s. in boards. " This is not only a moral 
but a religious tale, written with simplicity, and oflFering an ex- 
ample of virtue, which may be useful and interesting to many of 
our fair readers, particularly such as are speculating on matri- 
mony. We may recommend it, therefore, not only to those, who 
habitually peruse Novels, but to others, who may be disposed to 
amuse an hour or two with a work, by which they cannot be in- 
jured and may be benefited if they please." Monthly Review, 

6. The MUSICAL REGISTER, containing Criticisms on Music, 
and on Publications on that Science. Written and Collected by 
A. F. C. KoLLMAN. No. I. and II. price Ss. each. To be conti- 
nued Quarterly. 

7. The SATIRES of JUVENAL; translated and illustrated by 
Francis Hodgson, A. M. Fellow of King's College, Cambridge, 
in 4to. price £\. 16s. in boards. 

8. The LIVES of ANDREW ROBINSON BOWES, Esq. and the 
COUNTESS of STRATHMORE; written from thirty-three 
years professional Attendance, froaa Letters, and other well au- 
tenticated Documents. By Jesse Foot, Esq. Surgeon; in 8vo. 
with a Portrait of Mr. Bowes. Price 6s. Qd. in boards. 



\^ N 



GUY'S 

PORRIDGE POT 

A POEM, 

IN TWENTY-FOUR BOOKS. 

THE FIRST PART. 



Ksi/rii ^6^r)^ «^£V ^oKsT eivcti «9Ai«T£gop» 



LONDON: 

Printed for the author, axd sold by all the 
booksellers. 



1808. 



// 



I 



SLATTEH Ani) MtJNDAY, PKINTEHS, OXFORD. 



DEDICATION, 



ADDRESSED TO THE LEARNED CHARACTERS OF MY 
POEM. 



GENTLEMEN, 

It is an usual custom with authors first to assigu 
some irresistible motive for their dedications, and 
next to assert, what might be suspected perhaps, 
their own independence and spirit. The irre- 
sistible motive always arises from that veneration 
which every good man must entertain for his 
Lordship's unparalleled merit — and the assertion 
of independence is rendered absolutely necessary 
to distin2:uish themselves from the base and ser- 
vile herd of flattering scribblers which insults and 
disgraces literature. 

I love to have authority before me, and I shall 
follow their example as long as it is convenient. 

A 2 



/// 



MMi 



IV 



/' -'I 



i ' 



The same " irresistible motive" is equally urgent 
with me. Every one will allow that had I searched 
and researched the world, I never could have 
fixed upon subjects more proper than yourselves 
for this dedication. I shall be silent with resrard 
to those virtues and talents which others, who are 
less acquainted with them than myself^ miglit 
have chosen for their panegyric, botli because I 
am unwilling to relate what every one must know, 
and every one, except the curious, must acknow- 
ledge—and also because I have already manifested 
if not sufficient, certainly no common admiration 
in making them the subjects of my poem. It is 
i'asy to sa}' in ^erse, what delicacy would regret 
in prose. But besides the reasons which I have 
already given, tliere is another and a still more 
forcible one : besides my own feelings, and the 
reader's patience, I ought to consult your modestv. 
So Very conspicuous is the amiable quality in 
question, that I am confident almost every one of 
my readers uill be much more inclined to admit 
the justice of this poem than yourselves. They 
will be m.ore ready to apply my descriptions, and 
to point the encomiums which those descriptions 
may conve}'. 

As for the second part — the assertion of inde- 
pendence — I will not deviate from their example, 
although that example is by no means necessarv. 
Where there can be no suspicion, protestations 



■^ 



are useless. For what man of common candor will 
suppose that I could promise myself any other re- 
ward than your esteem ? I know that neither 
wealth nor preferment is at your disposal, I know 
that nothing should be expected, w^here there is 
nothing to confei\ For that very reason I most 
solemnly renounce, not only every claim to your 
patronage, but every hope from your benevolence. 
And I hereby declare that I never have accepted, 
and that I never will accept, what it is equally im- 
possible for me to receive, or for you, most learned 
Gentlemen, to bestow ! 

If this be not disinterested, the world is to blame 
rather than myself. Human nature can offer 
nothing which is more so— and I confess that I am 
human. As a farther proof of my sincerity, I 
neither publicly acknowledge this little work to 
be mine^ nor privately hint that I know something 
of the author. There is one other circumstance 
which I would mention in addition to these. Again 
I most solemnly pretest that I never have been in- 
fluenced in its composition by any individual at- 
tachments, or by any secret partiality. I wrote 
as an historian should write, without either love or 
hatred, from a knowledge of characters and facts, 
if I had ever felt either I never would have pub- 
lished. No, Gentlemen ! you are less indebted 
to me than to yourselves for every line. With 
these declarations and assurances, I must conclude. 

A 3 








VI 

There is but one more favor which I will venture 
to solicit — permission to subscribe myself 

Your very obedient, 

Very sincere, 

Very disinterested, 

Very humble. 

Servant and Admirer. 



\ '• 



I 



PREFACE 



1 HERE are rathejr more than three hundred different 
kinds of prefaces. It was a part of my original design 
to have classed them regularly, as Cicero did the divi- 
sions of oratory, ;and to have giyen a correct and ample 
description of each. My friends and )30okseller com- 
pelled me, however reluctantly, to relinquish a plan, 
the execution of which would have been attended witU 
infinite advantage to the world, j^nd particularly to that 
part of it called the Republic of Literature. 

They alledged that the preface ^ould be out of all 
pr<)portion to the work. That it would be infinitely 
better calculated for a separate publication— that my 
readers on finishing it, or perhaps even before they had 
finished it, might fancy there was nothing else, and 
conseq.uently that my poem might be neglected. 

It was in vain that I produced the most respectable 
authorities, and that I appealed to one which from its 
connection With my work, could not be overlooked.* 
If notes were allowed to exceed the text so very much 
in bulk, why not a preface ? I had the mortification of 

'^^ See a certain Spittal Sermon. 
A 4 



1 



i 




Vlll 



hearing that great men indeed might do as they pleased, 
but that my reputation was not sufficiently established 
to authorize any innovations at present. The " at 
Present" came out but just in time, or I should certainly, l 
according to custom, have quarrelled with my friends, 
changed my bookseller, and persisted, even if convinced 
of its absurdity, in my plan. 

As it is, I shall content myself with briefly noticing 
three instead of three hundred different modes. The 
first is deprecatory or apologetical. The author begins 
with observing that when criticism is so universal and \ 
severe, there can be but little prospect of success ex- 
cept to men of extraordinary talents. 2dly. That he has 
not the vanity to rank himself in this class — for 3dly. 
He is sufficiently conscious of his own demerits, and 
the imperfections of his book. 4thly. Tliat his book 
has little else to recommend it than the goodness of its 
intentions. 5thly. That it is expecting infinitely too 
much from the candor of mankind when their atten- i 
tion is solicited without any other claim. 6thly. That ' 
he cannot plead surreptitious copies, or the entreaties 
of his friends. 7thly. That even if he could, the excuse 
would be inadmissible. 8thly. That an author must 
risk a great deal without any rational prospect of com- 
pensation — for 9thly. Those whose talents are suffici- 
ently respectable in the circle of their friends, are often 
very insignificant in the world. lOthly. and lastly, 
That convinced of all this, and even of a great deal 
more, in the very spirit of humility, he resigns him-' 
self to his readers. 



IX 



The second class is directly opposite, and may he 
called the " Haughty or Indifferent." These never at- 
j_empt to convince their readers that they are blockheads 
for publishing. They claim that liberty as a natural 
rig^ht, rather than as a conceded privileg-e. Althong-li 
they admit that books are intended for those ^vho may 
be pleased to peruse them, they are perfectly uncon- 
cerned whether their books be perused or not. They 
felt no anxiety in their composition, and are indifferent 
as to their fate. They scorn and detest prefaces. Cus- 
tom has no influence whatever over men of elevated 
minds. They are not such as condescend to deprecate 
the severity either of critics or readers. For critics and 
readers are very different people : readers read without 
judging — and critics judge without reading. They leave 
their books to defend themselves. They were neither 
induced to write for the good of others, nor for their 
own reputation. Indeed all that they have written, 
particularly in the preface, w^as intended to convince 
mankind of this indifference. The work was composed 
merely to pass away a vacant hour, and published 
merely because they chose it. 

The last class steers equally between the first and 
second, and should be denominated '' x\pologetical 
Indifference." These writers have a mortal antipathy 
to prefaces, but invariably publish the longest; like 
very timid and superstitious people, who are always 
meeting with ghosts, because they would always avoid 
them. This is true, but unfortunate ! They convince 
lis that prefaces are by no means necessary, and that 



\ i 



liooks would do just as well, or even a^reat deal better 
without them. That the custom is a modern, and 
therefore a barbarous one, and that the authors submit 
to it, only because they ought not. That a good book 
is in need of no assistance, and that a bad one cannot 
receive any. That they are willing to rely upon the 
candor of their readers, and the merits of their 
works. Thus, instead of a preface intended as an 
apology for the work, or a challenge for the reader, it 
is only intended as an exculpatory attack upon itself: 
and after forty or fifty pages employed in proving that 
even one of them would have been absurd, we are suffered 
to proceed. This is the opposite to Swift*s digression 
in praise of digression, and certainly upon a much more 
ingenious plan. 

Now my preface w\\\ be a specimen of originality, 
and totally different from then) all. It is intended to 
inform my readers, if I get any, of some particulars 
connected with the work. Perhaps I may be told that 
this is merely an old fashion revived, and that formerly 
prefaces were always written for the very same purpose. 
Be it so, What is thus deducted from my originality 
will be added to my learning, and in this I resemble the 
greatest men of the present age. Besides modern 
originolity, as Mr. Pope ob^ein'es, is nothing more than 
the reproduction of old ideas in new dresses. This de- 
finition is a very good one, and sufficiently distinguishes 
vs from feuch as are contented with setting forth every- 
day thoughts in every-day attire. 

There is one advantage, at least, which we have at pre- 



sent over our forefathers. This age is either much more 
virtuous or candid than the last. There is a great deal 
of tenderness and dehcacy shewn on many occasions 
now, which did not exist before. Satire, by way of 
instance, was once considered as a very wholesome 
medicine for folly, and a very necessary one for vice. 
Either these two diseases are eradicated with the small 
pox, or, as I am rather disposed, for some strong but 
private reasons, to imagine, they are indebted to our in- 
dulgence or our indifference for their repose. It is cer- 
tain that the very same dose which would have been 
considered as nothing more than a common and gentle 
emetic but fifty years ago, has become now sufficiently 
powerful, not only to gripe the unhappy patient but to 
torture the compassionate by-stander. A cry is imme- 
diately raised against the apothecary and his physic: 
the one is a cruel, inhuman, detestable ruffian, the 
other is a hasty, abominable, poisonous drug. 

This surely must be attributed to the weakness of our 
constitutions. There is something in it far beyond 
common feeling and commiseration, v/hich might be 
considered by the morose as morbid, squeamish, senti- 
mentalj and childish. 

I should burn with as much indignation as any m.an 
if I had reason to believe that these same medicines 
were improperly administered. But there is a very wide 
difTerence between the prescriptions of a regular physi- 
cian, who has felt his patient's pulse and discovered 
his disorder, and the dose of some malevolent scoundrel 
who would slip his physic into an unsuspecting neigh- 



! 



^tf» 



hour s meat, though convinced that it must be useless, 
and might be injurious. 

Now I am regular in my profession, and the com- 
parison holds good in every point but one, which, alas ! 
cannot be reconciled. I have felt the pulse, and I have 
given such advice as my conscience directed. I have 
not the slightest antipathy to my patients, or prejudice 
respecting their several complaints. I am convinced 
that I shall do them good, though my medicine is rather 
too weak than too strong. In all these points I am in- 
deed what I profess to be ; but it must be confessed that 
I was neither called in, nor have been fee'd for my 
trouble. This, however, is less my fault than my mis- 
fortune. Let not any one, therefore, reproach me with 
inhumanity till he has investigated the nature of their 
complaints, and ascertained the motive for my prescrip- 
tions. *No doubt they will be unpalatable at first, 
but they were given with a good intention, and will be 
productive of a good effect. 

* A^iTolc^.Ytq rvi<; 'wa.i^eiuq e^vj retq fxev ^t^«? ^vai 's;iKpa<;^ 



gi:y'S porridge pot. 



ARGUMENT. 

APPEAL to the reader's feelings — disadvantages under whicV 
modern poets innit labour — -evil spirits of literature. — The 
author's security and courage — he defies and threatens them. — 
Poetical impediments removed in the usual manner — Hints at 
the subject. — Why the evil spirits cannot interfere.— Cautions 
given them not to transgress their propei: limits. — Address to the 
reader — Author's prudence — that prudence necessary. — Hints — • 
Allusion to an important subject— ^Hints again — The scene of this 
Poem discovered — distinguishing peculiarities of it — Great natu- 
ral phenomenon — Learned allusion in explanation— A beautiful 
contrast ia the characteristic description of some very good, and 
some vci:y wise people. — Preparations for the conclusion^ 
Header's impatience — Author's pruderx4.'e — Illuminati — Conclu- 



BOOK L 



'*' Double, double toil and trouble 
Fire, burn j and, cauldron, bubble." 



1 HOSE that have tried, alone can pity 
His case who must be, will be witty. 
Who sweats with labor, shakes with doubt. 
And writes a line to scratch it out. 

The time is past since folk beginning 
Had got a muse to set them spinning. 
And when their ftrst, their only prayer 
Was said to her, and she was there — 
Now hungry, cross-grained, grim reviewer, 
*Sticks man with pen, as hare with skewer : 
No force withstands, no tear appeases. 
He does, and will do what he pleases ; 

* The golden age of literature was antecedent to criticism. 
The silver, when it was scarce. This is the iron, brazen, and 
leaden age. How happily would poor persecuted authors go on, 
if it were not for critical torments ! I wish sincerely — and not on 
my own account— that Reviewers would give theni a jubilee year, 
and pass an act of indemnity ; an act of oblivion would be use- 
less presently, for all offences therein committed. 






16 

And g-iant-likc where'er he meets him 

He turns, he bastes, he roasts, he eats him. 

But spells secure, lest fiend attack it 
With brimstone brush, my fire-proof jacket — 
When fierce, I'm wrath — when sharp, uncivil^ 
Saint Dunstan I, if he the devil. 

(So far, so good, now rest a little. 
My metaphor gets plaguy brittle : 
Better go slowly, better stay 
Till sure to find the straightest way.) 
If culprit I, if justice he 
His warrant cannot reach to me ; 
All armed in brass, like stout knight-errant,. 
Care I for justice or for warrant r 
And when I laugh at men or flatter. 
Is he a judge of praise or satire ? 
Can he decide the cause between 
The author me, and those I mean 
Both sides unknown, unheard, unseen ? 

To him who boldly soaring sings 
These metaphors are awkward things • 
Use all the caution that he may 
They get for ever in his way : 
Though changed, alas! mine is not plain 
So now I change it back again. 

I tell thee critic, those same people. 
Far off, live round provincial steeple. 
Who interferes while I am firking 
With all my might a neighbour's jerkin ? 



I 



17 

Myself, my neighbour both unknown. 
What prudent man would risk his own ? ^ 

Goblin avaunt ; I give thee warning ^ 

To hang thy tail, and draw thy horn in ! 

But gentle tender-hearted reader 
Our road is plain while I am leader^ 
In spite of critic, wind, or weather^ 
We chit-chat jog along together. 
If that be chit-chat tete-a-tete 
■'^Where you must listen, I must prate. 

I would, but dare not half unravel 
Cause why, place where, with whom, you travel. 
(Reader) " You dare not ?'' (Author) Hush 1 I give the 

reason 
Some folks have knives, and I a weason ! 
Still one is bold, the other pressing. 
And no great secret learnt by guessing 5 

I tell my tale about the people — j 

(Reader) '' What people r" (Author) Guess, and guess . \ 

what steeple, • 

(Reader) " Thej/j- prove, who dread a want of vittle 
Great Britain to be very little : 
Take Scotland from it, he who searches 

May yet find room for many churches !'^ ^ 

(Author) Take Scotland then, and solve my riddle, 1 

This place stands somewhere near the middle. 



* Si rixa est, ubi tu pulsas, ego vapulo tantum. 

Jur. 
f Mr. Malthus, Mr. Godwin, &c. 

B 



18 



(Reader) " I cannot guess." (Author) Alas ! * poor 
Yorick! , ,„,, ^r >' 

Thy scull had brains ! (Reader) " What is it ^? 

(Author) Yes , Fortune crazy creature. 

Has there reversed the laws of nature. 

f Fire, air, and water lose in force 

The more, the farther from their source. 

As any man or child can tell us 

Who squirts with squib, or blows with bellows. 

But there, so freakish is the dame. 

The beams shine brighter than the flame : 

However strange my tale my sound 

JClouds rest within, and light around, 

* Alas ! poor Yorick ! 

That scull had a tongue in it once. Ham. 

+ Plat. Tim. — Lact. Inst. — Plat.— -Arist. de Anim. 

+ I shall dwell longar on this part of my subject hereafter. 
There are, notwithstanding this general character which I have 
given, many individuals resident among the crowd, who deserve 
to be elevated above their neighbours. It is usual indeed to pay 
this compliment twice in every year, but much too partially. In 
the second part of my poem, if I have sufficient encouragement 
to continue it, I will do what I can for them. Neither have I any 
apprehensions but that sufficient encouragement will be given me. 
Some of those whom I am now describing, will be grateful enough 
to return the compliment, as well as they can, either by them- 
selves or their friends. I expect every acknowledgment which 
critical modesty can offer me. And if my readers should meet 
in the different Reviews, notwithstanding my caution, with such 
words as these, fool, ass, knave, monster, &c. let them re- 
member how to read and construe all and each into the most 
delicate and refined expressions of approbation. 



19 



I must explain, I see you doubt. 
Wisdom hath placed her sons without. 
As once philosophers, we know. 
Declared the sun was ice or snow. 
The people laughed, the dog-days came. 
They sought the shade, but held the same : 
What can be done ? at last they venture 
To prove its rays unlike its centre. 

And thus with -, in the smoke 

Dwell civil, quiet, decent folk — 
*But all the learned, wise, and bright 
X^ive further off, live out of sight, 

* This should not have been said perhaps, without some few 
honourable exceptions. Even here there are certain little insects 
in literature who differ as much from the hero of my poem as a 
butterfly from an eagle ; or as the hyssop on the wall, from the 
cedar of Lebanon. A love of reputation may burn as intensely 
in dwarfs as in giants, in the people of Lilliput as in the people 
of Brobdingnag. Numberless pretty little namby-pamby verses 
almost every weok, which have no other essential fault but a 
want of sense and poetry, are from this origin. One unfortunate 
pygmy, who is lost, rashly launched into the literary ocean with 
a cockle-shell tragedy: others have more prudently confined 
themselves to the republication of their neighbours works, in a 
newspaper, with three or four introductory lines written by them- 
selves. There are little Betty's in scribbling here who dispute the 
laurel with their two Reverend Instructors, and carry it away. 
In fact, authors which criticism must examine with the sam-e 
microscopic minuteness as naturalists would do mites in a cheese, 
abound ; but I, who am speaking of the cheese itself, may give 
a distinct and appropriate character, notwithstanding these its 
insignificant and almost imperceptible inhabitants. 
b2 



, so 

Now reader ! never mind the first. 
They eat through hunger, drink through thirst r 
And not alone from wants hke these. 
They eat and drink just when they please — 
Like me, and, possibly, like you, 
*They do what other people do — 
And, as I hinted, drink and eat 
Just what they have, or what they get. 
Virtues, thank God ! not yet uncommon 
To English-man or English-woman. 
An empty belly genders strife. 
But peace reigns here *twixt man and wife. 
Without a pistol, gun, or sabre, 
f Each lives in quiet by his neighbour. 

* But still, as I sard before, there are some few honourable 
exceptions, some few instances of an ambitious spirit. I shall 
-relate other particulars hereafter, at present I must content my- 
self with the following. One good citizen — alas ! I am forced to 
acknowledge he was an adventitious citizen — fell before the mayor 
upon his knees, passionately implored the reasonable loan of an 
alderman's gown, and pei-mission, when invested in that dignified 
garb, to con|;ratiilate his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, 
and his Eoyal Highness the Duke of Clarence on their happy 
arrival. It is to be lamented that a request so laudable as this 
was refused him — not only because the princely guests have lost 
such an extraordinary specimen of vvisdom and eloquence, but 
also because the disappointed citizen in question has become a 
victim to that timid and bashful sensibility which generally preys 
upon repulsed and neglected genius ! 

+ It must be confessed that this happy repose is occasionally 
disturbed by a tremendous foe to borough serenity called "Con- 
tested Election." Still, however, there is some strong, though 



«1 

Here let us stop, and rest, before I 
Conclude the wonders of my story. 
(Reader) '' Conclude ! whatever may be in it. 
Before yoti end, you should begin it." 
(Author) Assuage your wrath, your haste assuage. 
What follows, comes another stage. 
In tale so very delicate I 
Acted like wise Illuminati, 
Who leading, checking, watching, trying, 
*Knew convert fit, from convert prying. 

secret, influence, similar to that of gravitation or magnetism 
which keeps almost exery thing here in its proper place. Foolish 
people, who were ignorant of this influence, might have won- 
dered, perhaps, when they beheld one good man, whose loss is 
universally regretted, change and re-change his party seven 
limes in less than a month. But it was found, on diligent 
enquiry, that he had received three different promises of a long 
lease from Pro, and four invitations to dinner from Con. As Con 
had also a house to dispose of, Con succeeded. On another 
occasion, there were silly, childish, half-witted mortals, so 
totally unacquainted with the world, as to shudder with horror 
or disgust, on liearing a Reverend Orator publicly attack the 
son of his former friend and his exhausted patron, though h5 
knew that the accusation was false, and though he saw that the 
calumny must be refuted ! Fortunately, indeed, there are very 
few who are sa sQueamish as this : and philosophers, like myself, 
may trace the power or influence of this same principle, called 
interest, in its operations, while we are totally ignorant of its 
nature. 

''- See Prof. Rob. and Ab. Bar.— Horn. Od,— Proclus de Tim.' 
Athffin. Kir. 

b3 



] 



i He who with modest patience strains 

7 To learn, learns wonders for his pains. 

Before I tell, I make you follow 
Through brake and fen, o*er steep and hollow* 
Come on, if still resolved to roam. 
If weary, prithee Sir go home. 
The guide is paid — averse or willing — 
You have your choice, and I the *shilling. 

* The intended price of this book j but lo ! the effects of ann 



pajier 




GUY'S PORRIDGE POT. 



B 4 



Scene-^The seme till it shifts. Time — The same till it 
changes. 



' ARGUMENT. 

A SOLEMN address to the Spirits by whom I am inspiredi 
Tiieir office — pov/er — dignity — and origin. Wtiy preferable to 
Aijollo and tiie Muses. Vows of perfect and perpetual devotion 
to them. — The story, according- to Aristotle, abruptly commeHced. 
News — of what — by whom carried — lo whom brought — The iiero 
of the Poem — The elbow chair — The speech — Prediction — Pre- 
parations — A beautiful allusion to Homer. The Hero superior, 
in rfome respects, to Agamemnon — His predictions accomplishedw 
Conclusion, 






BOOK II. 



** Boil thou first in the charmed pot." 

Macbeth, 



All hail ! ye powers of mystic song 
That nightly loose my stammering tongue j 
That fire my brain, and fill my soul 
With visions dim, with nothing whole j 
That bid misshapen forms arise 
And stand revealed before mine eyes; 
That multiply this candle here 
To girandole or chandelier ! 
All hail ! ye powers of every sort 
Whether ye boast your birth from port^ 
Or, bound to let the truth appear. 
Blushing confess ye sprang from beer ! J 
Thrice I invoke your sacred line 
Spirits all hail ! of beer and wine ! 

Let pale-faced poet, if he chuses. 
Address Apollo and the muses; 
Inspired by you, I scorn to follow 
Either the muses or Apollo. 



I 



^5 . . 

J For whispering groves, and gelid springs^ 

I] And Pindus' tops, and Zephyr's wings. 

With lists, which poets must remember^ 
Seem out of season in December ; 
*And all the rocks and woods together 
May sleep, for me, till warmer weather ; 
Besides I said (prim, vide Tom.) 
Though called and called they never come* 

Pindar may strive to make us quarrel 
Sweet red-nosed spirits of my barrel. 
But neither he nor Aristotle 
Parts me from you, or Baby Bottle ! 

News flies as fast as fame can carry 
That Fox is chosen secretary ! 
Post-office, shambles, bank, and fish-shop^ 
Resound prophetic of a bishop. 
Happy the man who first arrives 
To tell the doctor how he thrives. 
What people say, f how sure they arfe 
That none stand half the chance of — ► ^l ~\ ' ^ 
' So firm a friend, so fine a writer^ 

His v/ig so suited to a mitre. 
And many pretty things beside, 
Feigned just as fast as he could ride* 

With lordly mien and solemn air^ 
Tlie doctor takes his elbow chair. 

* Horn. II. — Anacr. — Pind. — Seneca. — Proper. — Li v. 3 B. 
Ovid. Met — Propert. 

Sopii. 



27 

Then rings for Ralph, who orders John 
To ask the cook if Jane is gone 
Through garden, orchard, field, and house. 
In search of daughter and of spouse. 

When servants, daughter, spouse appear 
He thus begins from elbow chair. 
*' *Our brother tells us that the weight 
Of fearful things in church and state, 

* Let not my candid reader imagine that I intend to p-atify 
his rreaZei'o/e«ce by exposing the defects alone of this extraordinary 
character. There are enough of those who wish to elevate them- 
selves, by depressing their neighbours. It is however possible 
to laugh at the foibles of a man, without detracting from his 
worth : besides this man stands in the very middle of my canvass, 
and how could he be omitted. (If this be a bull, so much the 
better for Reviewer, but to return.) My uncle Toby is not the 
less amiable for his whims. They endear him to the reader, and 
he gains almost as much by eccentricity as by benevolence. But 
this is only the case where eccentricity and benevolence are 
united. The person of whom I am speaking, is not inferior to 
my uncle Toby in whims and simplicity, or to any man in infor- 
mation and vHc, Learning and eloquence are the most remarkable 
parts of his character, but the least estimable. True, there is 
much in it offensive to the prudish, ridiculous to the cunning, 
abominable to the hypocritical : but amends are made by the 
candid and enlightened— by a consciousness, which arises from 
experience, that those men who have known him the longest, 
must reverence him the most* You perceive, perhaps, that the 
subject has made me dull and serious — perhaps you perceived 
the former before. Now supposing that he has dared to follow 
me so far, I liave anticipated the critic — But to return a second 
time. I may tickle, but I would not sting the doctor. I gather 
my nettles for the asses which surround him, and not for himself 
or his friends. 



m 



Corruptions rani?, and slanders evil 

Ecclesiastical and civil — 

Press sorely on^ in short, demand 

Some wiser head, and firmer hand; 

And thus, as fit for seals and see. 

The people look to Fox and me. 

From East to West, from North to South, 

With anxious eyes and gaping muuth. 

Congratulation sallies forth — 

'riie roads are covered with the cloth, 

And fortune, as she used before. 

Will bring them in while clock strikes four. 

Lay * down the spit, the kettle put on 

For turkey, chicken, beef, and mutton ; 

Ralph take this key, you know the sort. 

Some sherry, and my oldest port/' 

He spake — John spreads the festive boardj 
Ealph takes the key with '' yes my Lord"--- 
■f Low courtesying cook and Jane retire 
To realms below of smoke and fire. 

jAs Somnus sent by mighty Jove 
Forsook the radiant realms of love> 

* Cic. deNat. D.— Catullus. — Pind. Nem.— CEdip. Tyr.— CEdip, 
Col. 

By) ^£ y.c^' loaiuv q^buv Siq IXiov JcrjV, 

Horn. II. 

+ Arktotle saj'^s that Homer was accused of impiety for making 

Jupiter tell lies. Macrobins says it was not a lie, but a trick, 
and that Jupiter was not a hnave but a conjurer. Mad. Dacier 



i 



29 

In darkness veil'd his silent wing. 

Then sought the tent, where slept the Ling. 

And stood iitfore Atrides' eyes 

To tell — so Jove commanded — lies — 

To call him lazj^, bid him move. 

Since all the gods shook hands above. 

And swear those gods assembled will his 

Success in war to vex Achilles : 

*Thus sent by none, divine or mortal. 

This brother seeks the doctor's portal. 

You must have seen, or heard, or read. 

Feathers in swiftness yield to lead ; 

He mounts, he flies, he cuts the air. 

For want of wings upon a mare. 

And fills with vain and' empty Avords 

The doctor's scull like — House of Lords. 

saw the distinction and stole it for herself. I use some one, as she 
used him: I show my learning, but do not tell from whom 1 had 
it. To see this subject in all its different lights consult Dacier, 
Macrob.— Strabo, 1. 8.— Aul. Gell.— Arist. Topic— Politian Prsefi. 
in Horn. — Maxim. Tj^r. Diss. 17. — Plut. Schol. — Piad. in Nem. — 
Pvoclus de Tim.— Plat. Tim.— Plut.— Plac. Phil. — Arist. de 
Anim. — Trag. (Edip.— Hyde, Rel. Ant. Pers.— Vita Pyth. Por. 
— Athaen. Kirch.— Justin B. I.— Plac. Phil.— Paley Mor. Phil.— 
Grot. 

* If you know any thing about Homer, you must know that 
six or seven hundred commentatox's have considered the want of 
similitude in his similies as their greatest perfection. I too, in 
the beginning of mine, have cautiously avoided any unpoetical 
resemblance. 



so 

No matter whether Somnus knew 
That what he whispered was not true ; 
Who hears the modern Somnus vows, he 
Is twice as marvellous and drowsy. 

The doctor, like Atrides, goes 
Up stairs to dress in Sunday clothes ; 
Erect he sits beside the bed 
As barber shaves his learned head — - 
Behold that head, like cloud-capt tower. 
Adorned with monstrous cauliflower! 
Still sounds the news, the ear still itches. 
While shirt is air*d, and changed are breeches 5 
Next waistcoat smooth as e^er was worn. 
The stuff is silk, the buttons horn : 
With long loose skirts a well-brushed coat, 
A stock stiff starched about his throat. 
And polished shoes to grace his feet, — 
*So all is comely, all is neat. 

Nay more, believe me, did he then 
Than Agamemnon king of men ; 
Who dressed and hurried from the place. 
Nor washed his hands, nor washed his face. 

Now, gentle reader ! now behold 
How true is what the doctor told 
" From East to West, from North to South, 
With anxious eyes, and gaping mouth, 

* I have spoken with ^reat admiration of the Doctor's dress, 
but others have declared that formerly he could raise mustard 
and cress upon his hat crown. 



\ \ 



31 

Congratulation sallies forth. 
The roads are covered with the cloth. 
And fortune brings them to his door 
*Just as he said, while clock strikes four!^' 

• Had these same prophetic tidings been true, and I wish in- 
deed that they had, there is one great episcopal duty in which 
the Doctor would have yielded to none of his bretlren. He has 
been qualifying himself most assiduously in the exercise of liospi- 
talityfor a great many years; and if, as I have hinted in another 
place, his own morning calls are occasionally a little later than 
custom prescribes, it is accordant with that universal and uner- 
ring rule which instructs us to do as we would that others should 
4p unto us. 



I» 



GUY'S PORRIDGE POT. 



' c 



i^mmm- 



ARGUMENT. 

INVOCATION according to custom. — Description of a future- 
Doctor, who had been described before under the character of 
Somnus. — Second character. — ^The shadow of a shade. — The 
Author's caution to his reader respecting some metaphorical 
language on this pair. — Extraordinary instances of laudable am- 
bition — Pathetical address to them — A third character — The 
great man — surprising instance of his early attainments — His 
prudence — Good advicefrom the author — Description of jealousy. 
And improvement on Esop — The author moralises and concludes^ 



\ 



\ ) 



BOOK in. 



" The earth hath bubbles, as the water has. 

And these are of them." Macbeth. 



1 ELL, pretty maidens ! tell me who — • 
*Since none know half as much as you 
Of guests and feasts — removes and courses — ■ 
t Arrived in gigs, on foot, or horses ? 
jl wretched mortal ! lost in doubts 
But hear of dinners, guess at routs ; 
For all I learn is learnt from you, 
§Tell, pretty maidens ! tell me who ? 

HOM. It. 

f Pars pedes ire parat campis; pars arduus altis 

Pulverulentus equis furit. Virgil. 

J We, wretched mortals ! lost in doubts below 

But guess by humour, and but say we know. Pope. 
§ Pope says that " it is bard to conceive any address more 
solemn, any opening to a poem more noble and magnificent than 
Homer's invocation before his catalogue." I am sorry that Pope 
has not lived to read mine. If I only equal Homer in solemnity and 
magnificence, I far surpass him in elegance and proriety. What 
do the muses know of ships and soldiers ? Why should Homer 
suppose that they had more brass about them, or, individually, 
more tongues in their heads, than himself? — Now my pretty 
maidens, as they are described in the second book, can easily be 
imagined to relate what went on at a feast, and to tell who were 
c 2 



J 



36 



What shall I call, what title give 
That vaq less, neutral, negative. 
That shapeless substance, pursy ghost> 
Ambitious sluggard, walking post. 
That sedinjent of silly things. 
That Somnus but for lack of wings > 
How shall I name, or how be mut&on» 
That rival of Sir Isaac Newton, 
That planeless flat, that pointless angle. 
That disputant too dull to wrangle. 
That philosophic butt for laughter. 
That doctor " that shall be hereafter."* 

The studious mortal, he can tell 
Diverging lines from parallel,. 
Make ladies wonder while he passes 
Triumphant o'er the bridge of asses ; 
And clowns admire his fruitful brain 
With '' well done Doctor try again V* 

fHe brought th^ news — to him belong 
The earliest tributes of my song. 

the guests. If I had been ^ sure of as many commentators as 
Homer was blessed with, I should have left these discoveries to 
them and my readers : but the former are alas ! no more : and 
the latter may be, nay ten to one are, most lamentable block- 
heads. 

* Macbeth. 

+ I have not done with this character yet : but it will save 
both time and trouble, to couple him with the next. They may 
run on together, like two of his OM'n hounds. If they do not 
exactly agree, they cannot part: one pulls a little this way, and 
the other that, but still they go together. 



I 



37 

first arrived, and lo ! we find 

The shadow of a shade behind ! 
Not less in zeal, he would pursue 
As close as other shadows do ; 
But lean the poney which he sat on. 

Far was his house, O ! far from ^AJtO/x^/ AT/im^ %ifc40^.U. 

And Fortune, stale capricious whore 
Told rival shade an hour before. 

*Ah! think not reader, when I made 
This simile about a shade 
That then I meant, that now I mean 
To call him fbloodless, boneless, lean ! 
Hard were the task, yea passing hard ' 

For any frail and earthly bard. 
To make some similies that do 
In one point well, fit others too. 
This is a shade, a shadow that. 
Though both are fair, and one is fat : 
The same their haste, the same their way. 
That rides a white, and this a grey ; 
And every man who passes hoots 
Why ! sure he stole the Doctor's boots ! 

But not contented to possess 
The closest copy of his dress. 
To talk of Greek, or to display 
His manner on a market day : 

* See what I said on this subject in my second book, if you 
skipped over that part. 

f Like Anacreon's grasshopper. * 

c3 



?> 



■ 38 

To smile, to wink, to shake the head. 

To judge pf books they never read ; 

Begin a tale, forget the joke. 

Resume their pipes, and end in smoke : 

Once more to rise, cry hush, and then 

Sit very gravely dovi^n again — 

Ambition haunts their curtainM sleep ; 

*They dream to covet — wake to weep : 

Dim scarf or shovel that appears. 

And thunders Doctor in their ears-^ 

Cries " eighty pounds, nay less the price is. 

Go thou to Cam, and thou to Isis, 

Then both may rank as high as he, 

fBoth sign their names with LL.D. !" 

tFarewell ! if aught my muse can do 
In stiifhng ovvls, or painting you — ■ 
Farewell if aught that muse avail 
§In fixing ian thorns to a tail ! 

* Arist. de Anim. — Diog. Laert. — Athaen. Kirch. — Strab. — ■ 
Plut. Plac. Phil. — Iamb, de Myst. Egyp. 

f They are very far advanced towards this high honour. 

+ Fortunati ambo, si quid mea carmina possunt. 

Virgil. 

§ Now which of these truly learned and sagacious admirers it 
was that wrote the Doctor's life, I pretend not to determine. But 
his life is written among the public characters, and evidently by 
an admirer. As a composition, it is rather too good for the first 
OTi my list, and, I should hope, rather too bad for any of the 
rest. The Doctor's style is vilely caricatured in all its defects, 
an'iafallible consequence of stupid imitation. This great stumb- 



\ 



1 



39 

But, mercy on \is ! ^vho comes next 
Half grinning, frowning, pleased, and vext ; 

ling-block is a climax, and now behold a climax which in any 
other work would have broken the writer's neck. "The riots 
in Birmingham, which happened in 1791, will be remembered by 
the latest posterity, not more for the numerous and diffusive 
mischiefs which they occasioned, than for the meanness ofspinV^ — 
very good — " blindness of ra^e''^ — very good again, hold up ? 
*' and intemperance of zeal" — O ! lack a day! ! ! — "with which 
the mob attacked the peaceful abode of I>r. Priestley," &c. The 

shadow may have volunteered this life now, having been apjjoinied ^■ 

or retained to write another hereafter. Let us hope, however, 
that the Doctor will live long enough " to do for him as 
much." This will be a new and desirable method to the world, 
of repaying his kind intentions. It will reward an humble and * 

patient successor to Bosweil, and ruin an ancient axiom for ever. 
The book of which I have spoken, the public characters, is a 
very useful national work. Like some of the Reviews and other 
periodical publications, it employs those who either could or 
would do nothing else. Numbers gain their bread honestly, no 
doubt, now, that might otherwise be very burdensome to their 
parishes, or dangerous in a moral an'd well-regulated bridewelL 
The reviews, and the work under our consideration, are conducted 
upon very different plans, and thus they become suitable to very 
different capacities. Some men are better qualified for flattery 
than abuse, some can write and spell a little, who do not like 
the trouble of reading at all, and who foolishly fancy that read- 
ing is necessary; and. lastly some, whose excessive stupidity 
would disqualify them for critics of any sort, possess abundant 
wisdom for biographers like these. This book excites our com- 
passion, and it will be patronised by the humane. They will say ~ 
to each of those who conduct it, like the good natured Lord 

Lafeu to Parolles, " Though you are a fool and a knave, you shall * 

«at." But the book has other advantages besides these. It con» '' 

c4 • /^. 



> 



rr 



40 

With studied air, contracted brow. 

As if he cried " now ! mind me now ! V 

Did ever awe-spruck mortals eyes 

View one so great', or one so wise ? 

So sharp in wit, in sense so sound. 

So quick, so bright, yet so profound ? 

Did ever laughing mortal see 

One half so pleased with self as he ? 

'Tis said that scarce a fortnight old, 

1 only tell what I was told — 

With jnimic gestures, varying faces. 

He studied attitudes and graces. 

And even then, that he would teach 

His nurse to rhyme, his doll to preach ! 



tains the lives of many, who, till now, were never known to have 
existed. It is of infinite service to such as are admired by none 
but themselves, aad this is the case with ninety and nine men out 
of a hundred. We shall ha.ve the lives, most likely, of all those 
whom I am now celebrating, since they too, were it not for me, 
would be in a similar predicament. It is my business, however, 
if their ambition be not very immoderate, to save them the 
trouble of writing their own characters. The work is also 
exceedingly useful to those authors who fancy that others are 
not half so well qualified for this employment as themselves. 
See Mr. Pratt's Life, and two thirds of every Vol. Some, who 
were rather dissatisfied with the praises of their friends in B.Jirst 
life, have very obligingly couseitted to praise themselves in a 
second. See the second life of Miss Seward, 6th Vol. But allow- 
ances should be made for the vanities of a second life, when we 
reflect upon the weaknesses of a second childhood. And weak-" 
ness would have served for an apology thirty years ago. 



\ ^ 



41 

Since nature, practice, age, combine. 
Frown on, frown on a great divine ! 

While prudence shelters ■ and you, 

A .very little. Greek will do : 

Let Greek alone ! and e'er you chatter 

On any other learned matter. 

Never forget this cautions plan, ^ i 

If not your subject, kno\^ your man. 

To brother parsons talk of war. 

Of fiddlesticks to Doctor J . : 

To beauties trace the roots of wdrds. 
Prove Christianity to Lords, 
To clowns deal politics, and preach 
On all, but what he knows, to each ! 

With smiles you strive, yet strive in vain 
To heal the wound, or hide the pain ; 
In every twitch and jerk we see ' 

That green-eyed monster j.ealousy: 
Congratulation hails the host. 
And lo! like murderM Banqno's Ghost, 
In scorn, a little loathsome beast 
Usurps the stool, and mocks the feast ! 
J"or envy pl^ys us slippery tricks 
In smaller things than bishoprics : 
^' Be great,'' exclaims the restless fagot, 
" A frog an ox — a mite a maggot ;" 
And thus she fires thy sapient pate 
To rival, not to imitate. 
But never mind ! the truly wise 
Can talk at least and moralize. 



I 



49 

If reason guide us, if we look. 

What means a crosier but a crook ? 

And what is mitre, what is Lord, 

Bat name profane, but thing abhor'd ? ♦ • 

So wisdom taught me — reader so 

*Teacb Seneca and Cicero. 

And now to prove how anuch he wanted 

The consolation that I granted. 

Come leave v/ith me the beaten road 

And listen to an episode. 

^ These great moralists instruct us to conquer envy by lessen- 
ing the object envied, or the enjoyment of those whom we envy. 
If you see a rich man, say they^ recollect his cares, and antici- 
pate his losses. But this is encouraging as bad a passion as the 
one that it is intended to remove. It teaches us to rejojce 
in the calamities of another, and to consider ourselves as really 
unfortunate while our neighbour is happier. We m.ust reduce 
his felicity before we can rest ! See on this subject the following' 
authors whom I have now overthrov/n. Cicero — Seneca — Plat. 
Banq.— Hierocl. Com. ia Carm. Aur. Pyth. — Hor. passim — StoU, 
—CEdip. Tyr.— Justm, B. 2.— Suid. 



GUY'S PORRIDGE POT. 



4 
I 



i 




r 

J 



AN EPISODE, 



ARGUMENT. 

THE story — ^Portrait painting — The Doctor's picture. Lament- 
able consequences which it produced — Effects of envy — A disser- 
tation on beards — their design — use — short catalogue of human 
calamities — The thrift and foresight of our ancestors — Improvident 
disposition and habits of the present age — The origin of swearing. 
Distressing situation in which the great man was.involved by thiss 
very want of a beard — The soliloquy — The effects of grief — The 
poetical address of his melodious friend to him — ^The confession - 
—Wings and herse, a simile — The artist comes-rThe picture — a 
Quotation from Propria quae maribus — Greatness of soul — Con- 
clusion. 



BOOK IV 



I' the name of truth, 
• Are ye fantastical, or that indeed 

Which outwardly ye shew. Shak. 

••^ 

A London artist came to take 
Papa^s sweet face for Misses sake. 
And Miss, although she hates to sit. 
Of course does what Papa thinks fit. 
Thus youth with age, with sinner saint. 
Throng round this mighty man of paint : 
Hard is the task, and long the labour. 
Where each looks fairer than her neighbour. 
And wrinklecl Squires, and virgin quizzes 
Lay claim to sleek, arch, modern phyzzes ! 
Yea, long he labours, much he works 
On men like maids, and maids iike Turks ! 

The Doctor also — not that he 
Looks either stiff or maidenly — 
Was pleased to sit, and all declare 
*The canvass breathes, they see him there. 

Alas ! it is in vain that I would exclaim with the same author 

Sto^ktoi* to Xoi'jrov cx^vrriv i;9ro7ro^(py^o*5-t -rrreV^kOK, 
How much more frequently is this wish in the intermediate 
«nes gratified. 



V 



r 



46 

But ah ! when wretched heard 

His hand was raised to tear his bearci — 
For he, poor man ! had read and knew 
What wisdom once was used to do ! 
(Reader) " To tear his beard ! and did he tear ?" 
(Author) The beard escaped, for none was there. ' 
Fools that we are ! to soap and shave 
Those hairs indulgent nature gave. 
That beard she hung around the throat 
Of lordly man, and lordly goat ! 
' Now why in goats she placed it there, 

I neither say, nor know, nor care ; 
But men, since all are doomed to groan* 
With cares and sorrows of their own — 
She kindly meant to pull and scatter 
When vexed by any cross-grained matter. 
As hopeless courtship, blighted corn. 
Ricks fired, roosts robb'd, or aching horn — 
Aching while spightful gossips gibe 
The wanderings of a wanton Rib — 
Streams overflowing, cattle drowned, 
Colts lamed, ewes cast, pigs put in pound f 

> * Diod. Sic— Plat Banq.— Athsen. Kirch.— Orig. Com. Cel. — 

\ Strom. 1. 5. — Jamb, de Myst, — Lucan. — Hierocl. Com. in Carm. 

Aur. Pyth. — Hes. de Saecl. Aur. Orph. — Procl. — Plut. de Anim. 
Form. — Argon, apud Steph. edit. Fuegger. — Pocock Specim. 

f The apt alliteration of Churchill is deplorable. There is a 
gap between every two words. Instead of an aid it is an im- 
pediment. Poor Tom Warton^s " Clock swinging slow with 
sweepy sway," is ten times worse. This exquisite specimen is 
sufficient to place the author above all his brethren. There is 



•>1 v> 



\A 



47 

And every wrong, and every ill 
That vex'd them once, or vexes still. 

Since grief will rage, our thrifty sires 
Presened their chins for floods and fires. 
Thus armed against the worst of woes. 
They tore their beards to save their clothes ! 

But now, forsooth, as if despair * i 

Scorned such a brittle hold as hair — 
Or else as if the barber's lather 
Could take them both away togather* — 
The fearless, senseless, beardless fops. 
Wear costly clothes, and close-dipt tops. 
And for the sake of smoother joles 
Damn both their own and neighbour's souls ! 

No beard had he, his clothes were new. 
But sorrow taught him what to do — - 
Like Hassan, thrice, the afflicted man 
Sighed, smote his breast, and thus began ! 

" Ah me forlorn ! shall crowds behold 
In cassoc, band, and frame of gold. 
The Doctor smiling from a wall. 
Whilst I must never hang at all. 
Or sus. per Coll. ! and shall he grace 
The exhibition with his face. 
Mine quite unknown ! though formed with care 
Year after year, to figure there ?" 

something like fortune in the effusions of genius. To produce 
this they were united. Critics may cavil, but that which excites 
their malevolence, ensures my immortality. 

* I spell this word as it should be spelt, because it mends the 
rhyme. 



V 



) 



4S 

He spake, and ended with a sigh — 
Go wretched man ! ah ! go and die ! 
Grief filled the house, his wife related 

Not why, but how, he mourned to -./ - - 

The poet flies with friendship's wings. 
And softly says, or sweetly sings, 
*' Tell me restless, tell me why 

Sullen sorrow dims your eye. 

Care contracts your clouded brow 

Tell me sometime ! tell me now. 

What misfortune thus can move. 

Broken friendship, faithless love ? 

Wherefore suffer, as he flies. 

Time to number only sighs ?" 
*Won by the magic of the strain. 
He raised his head, and told his pain — =• 
But should it prove that thou canst see 
No magic in this poesy. 
Reader I let the secret loose 
He's less a swan than thou a goose. 
But swan ornot, away he flew. 
And told the painter what to do. 
Yea on those very wings which bore 
That mighty burden there before ; 
The wings of friendship — not of vers? , 
On those he travels like a herse. 
With vast solemnity and state 
When lifeless, figures load his pate ; 

* Cic. de Con. — Cic. Ep.— Senec. passim. — Plat. Cratyl.— 
Hyde Eel. Ant. Pers. 



I 



49 

But empty, both the herse and he 
Move on with more celerity. 

The artist came, the artist painted. 
The men drew back ! the women fainted ! 
The children screamed ! the bats * gan wail ! 
The dogs clapt close the timid tail ! 

All looked with fear and wild amaze on i 

This " Gorgon, Icon, et Amazon'/' 
All but the wonderous man, and far 
From him who rivals Doctor — /I' en- 
Be childish hopes with form or dress. 
And outward shows of comeliness. 
To make the foolish world admire 
Sleek-visaged charms, and rich attire ! 

In dread sublimity of snout 
He fairly cut the Doctor out. 
And all the other sons of men 
From Fe Fo Fum to Saracen ! 

* Xenoph. — Arist. de Anim. — Cic. Frag. — Sal. Frag. — Arnob, 
1. 3.— Grot. Mor.— Volt. Let. 



I 



VN 



GUY'S PORRIDGE POT, 



I 



i> 5 



¥ 



ARGUMENT. 

A VERY pretty invocation. A short and an uncammon eharac- 
ter-^A shorter, and a still more uncommon one — Ambitious 
Jack — his imitations and originality — Good advice from tlie 
author — The Delia Cruscan Poet's absence accounted for — 
Another Episode began, and the fifth book concluded. 



■I 



BOOK V 



" Now good digestion wait on appetite, 
And health on both !" 

Macbstu. 



OOME ! for ye know me, I am he 
That scorns the tea-pot and the tea ! 
That wisely wishes, when he sings. 
To tune his pipe with better things. 
And that extol'd, in strains divine. 
The wonderous powers of beer and wine ! 

Come ! be ye maids or not, for why 
Should poets talk of chastity ? 
Come ! be ye fair, or black ye be. 
For what the plague is that to me ? 
Like Venus come, or Mother Bunch, 
Daughters of beer, and wine, and punch ! 
Let statesmen growl, and heroes bristle. 
And let the wise man wet his whistle ! 

Church clock had struck, and, hot as fire. 
The next that came was faithful — <^^- 
None haird in joy with greater glee. 
None felt in sorrow more than he : 
The feast he shared, and he would share 
A fast, if grief had kept one there. 
d3 



r 



54 

And, next to him, with rosy gills. 
Approached facetious, polished — 
A witty man, a wise one too. 
Who, knowing much, hid half he knew. 
Terrestrial Jack — thou man of earth 1 
Though last, not least in weight and girth. 
From distant climes, the land of eating. 
Whipping, spurring, puffing, sweating; 
On foaming horse, with frantic haste 
Hail ! king of suet ! prince of paste ! 

Zeal eats thee up, and he will eat 
A strange variety of meat ! 
Men feed on flesh, and beasts on grass. 
But zeal must have a taste for brass ! 

Ambitious Jack 1 if thou can'st speak 
Ten words, or more, of useless Greek ; 
If thou can'st jabber right or wrong. 
In place or out, words ten feet long. 
If thou can'st lisp and sputter faster 
Tiian any man besides thy master : 
Then run the race which he has ran. 
And scorn to live like mortal man I 
Then wear no waistcoat if it reaches 
Within a foot above thy breeches — 
Let breeches fall, and waistcoat rise ! 
Were braces made to bind the wise ? 
How many travellers have shown 
That Zephyrs cool the torrid zone- 
So follow nature — where's the hurt 
In two or three square feet of shiri, ? 



55 



The Doctor stands before thy sight, 
And what he does or thinks is right. 
J3ut ways there are in which we own 
Cool easy Jack proceeds alone : 
Why lisp thy scorn when ladies talk ? 
Why pick thy teeth with neighbour's fork ? 
Why clap thine elbow in his plate ? 
Why scrape thy nails, and scratch thy pate ? 
But still whate'er thy sense or breeding. 
Thy width of shirt, or depth of reading. 
Thy lisping Latin, loosened braces. 
Untoward tricks, and strange grimaces. 
Thou wilt do well, in one thing more. 
To follow him who walks before — 

For men, like sheep, must go astray,^ 

Who follow any other way. 

Mock thou his heart, since all declare 

Nothing is very faulty there. 

So Jack came last, and no one waited _ 

The rap of Delia Cruscan -" 

For, like Achilles, swoln with ire. 

He shun'd, as hell, the Doctor's fire. 

Nor deigned to choak or drown his wrath 

With beef and mutton, soup and broth ! 

Thus, gentle reader, thus began 

The rage which burst this mighty man. 
Not quite so sad the tale which I do 

Tell, as ^neas told to Dido ; 

* Arist. Met.— Plut. — Aiist. de Anim, 
D 4 

LofC 



56 

Nor half as long a time I bore ye, 

*So stretch your jaws to catch my story. 

For idle chat or learned bother 
One Doctor went to see another. 
(2nd Doctor) *'Pray stay and dine." (1st Doctor) ''I 

dine at home," 
(2nd Doctor) '' The dishes cool ! poo ! nonsense ! come." 
(1st Doctor) *'Lead on then! march!" — And so the 

sinner 
Said grace, sat down, and eat his dinner : 
As chance had snapt the horse*s crupper. 
He staid to tea, he staid to supper. 
While drunken saddier fail'd to come 
How could the Doctor journey home ? 
The brawn was fine, well boilM the tripe. 
Tobacco fresh, and clean the pipe. 
So many causes all combined 
To check his haste, and change his mind. 
But they who are right hospitable 
Give not alone a place at table. 
The host and hostess therefore said 
^' Doctor you better take a bed :" 
He thanks them both, and dare aver 
That none can answer no to her. 
He stays — the bed is soon prepared 
The night-cap warmed — the sheets are air'd. 
And you may tell, as if you'd seen. 
How soon the Doctor slipt between. 

* Conticuere omnes intentlque ora tenebant. Virgie. 

My readers may depend upon the authenticity of this story Iq 
all its parts. 



,:\ 



GUY'S PORRIDGE PO... 



ARGUMENT. 



AFTER a display of no common learning, the narrative con- 
tinued. The Doctor's extraordinary escape — Reflections and so- 
Jiloqus'- — 4e moralises in vain- a proof of it. — The effects of his 
example on Somnus — Tiie soliloquy related to the Delia Cruscan 
Poet — and thus the Delia Cruscan Poet's absence accounted 
for — .A very old simile but a very good one — quite original in its 
ap^»licaLion. — The author shews some astronomical knowledge — 
The Deila Cruscan Poet's accomplishments — The surprising per- 
verseness of many people during the representation of his 
tragedy, accounted for. 



BOOK VI. 



*' Double, double, toil and trouble. 

Fire burn ; and cauldi-on bubble ! 

Cool it with a Baboon's blood. 

Then the charm is firm and good !" Macbeth. 



JMOST gentle reader ! prithee pardon 
The wanderings of thy humble bard, on 
So very high a theme as this is — 
Who hears not, knows not what he misses. 

We go a journey, and the roads 
Are cross'd, not stopp'd, by Episodes. 
If grave Q,uintihan somewhere teaches 
How books resemble people's breeches. 
In this that breeches were designed 
To shew the shape, as books the mind— 
And thence infers, when hanging loose. 
The more the stuff, the less the use. 
Would he in buck-skin case confine us ? 
*0r if he would, would grave Longinus ? 
Who rides on Pegasus, may ride 
With him and Homer by his side 

Both fast and slow, both far and wide. ^ A 

A man's a noodle if he aims 
To square his work by rules from Kaims, 

* Tollius Long. — Faber et Dacierus — Manutius — Boileau, 



} 



I 



\\ 



\ 



J 



60 

A man^s a blockhead that would throttle 
His muse for sake of Aristotle. 

If not more gentle than discerning- 
Reader, by this, you see my learning — 
That fairly known and duly rated, ^ -.jj^^^^^s. 
I turn again to'~— --• and • "^^^^ ■ r A^ 

Now whether too much tripe or brawn. 
Or frightful dreams of fleeting lawn — 
Whatever caused, the Doctor fled 
*Butjust in time to save his bed. 
Perchance of what might hap aware. 
Before he bent his knees in prayer. 
He sought and found a seat-less chair 
So well contrived, one less discerning. 
Less used than he to midnight learning ; 
I say an uninstructed mind 
Might never know for what designed. 

Now was his time to bless the care 
Of those whose caution placed it there ; 
He sits not thanklessly — lo ! he 
Is heard in this soliloquy ! 

" But just in time — scarce that I fear — 
'Twas well I knew the comer where — 
Man, wretched man ! by dangers warned. 
May learn to prize what late he scorned ! 
How short his views ! how ofcen fated 
To wish for what he scorned or hated ! 



* The Doctor had better fortune on this occasion tljan he is 
said to have had on others. 



ed, -J 



61 

Though critics spurn, and children mock it — 

! were the Regent in my poeket ! 
What would one page be worth to me 
Of Delia Cruscan poetry ! 

And was, forsooth, their only use 
To light a candle, singe a goose. 
Or curl the long lank hair of Molly ? 
Wise men may live to curse their folly ! 

1 never dreamt, till doomed to lose them. 
This was the properest way to use them ! 
Thou chattering, pompous, empty-pated, 
Half-reasoning, rhyming, prosing 
ril bait thee as thou should'st be baited ■ 

He searched his pockets o'er again. 
But moralized and searched in vain ! 
In vain alas ! for this is certain 
That Doctor used the other's curtain. 

'Tis said — and I believe the tale. 
That Somnus, stuffed with tripe and ale. 
Cried '' ho ! my boots ! the grey must gallop — 
A sixpence for an ounce of jalap !" 
How strong in man is lust of fame. 
He goes to bed, and does the same ! 
But to return — enough is stated 

To shew why Delia Cruscan 

Who heard of all the Doctor said 

*From vexed and listening chamber-maid. 



* Who jrelated it also to me : and her authority is as good as 
a Muse's : not to say better. 



1 



\ 



62 



The ranting Regenf s wrongs resented, 
" Et concione se" absented. 

Most peo|)le know that planets run 
For light and heat around the sun : 
(Alas ! how plain it is to see 
As many kntw my simile ! 
I must go on since I began it) 
And little worlds attend a planet : 
Far off indeed, tho' nearest, far. 
His beams came straight from Doctor — //?/!. 
Now some astronomers have found 
The nearest planet turns not round. 
While one side roasts, they boldly tax his 
Unequal light for want of axis : 
But to apply what they remark. 
There may be moons though in the dark ; 
And pictured Gorgon's pretty son 
Is just exactly such an one ! 

This Mercury can write and speak 
Italian, German, French, and (Reader) " Greek !" 
(Author) Greek ! who said Greek ? did I put that in ? 
No, Sir, he scorns both Greek and Latin 1 
But to make up, there is none better 
*At senses, organs, and at meta- 
physics in every different branch 
From Aristotle to Malbranche ! 
He dwells on Hume and Hobbs and Clarke, 
Till clear grows dim, and light grows dark. 

♦ Abrah. Ro^er. of Rel. Brain.— Cabbal. Diss. 8 Rittang. 



% 



} 



63 

In spite of Reid, or any other. 

He can convince by dint of bother 

Whatever .silly men suppose 

Though pinch'd and pull'd that no one knows 

Whetker he have or not a nose. 

But not confined to reason, he 

Indulged his vein for poetry. 

Shakspeare his model, and as like 

As sign-post painter to Vandyke. 

Though blushing Siddons kindly strained 

To save the play, and serve her friend — 

It happened most surprisingly 

That folk would laugh, when folk should cry ! 

But wonder ceases w hen I tell ye 

His Regent has got FalstafF's belly. \ 

Sometimes in verse, sometimes in prose, 

*He stamps, he raves, he sweats, he blows. 

And nothing surely can be worse 

Than verse half prose, but prose half verse ! 

And now I lay the bellows by 
Mysterious vase of mighty Guy ! 
fBut soon their panting lungs shall strain 
To make thee smoke and boil again ! j 



professus grandia tursret." 

Hor. de Art. Poet- 



+ " Verum ita xisores, ita cominendaie dicaces 
Conveniet Satyros — ita vertere seria ludo." 

Hor. de Art. Poet. 
+ And now, gentle Reader, I take my leave of you for the 
present. When we meet again, I will relate the remainder of 



M 



my story. It is full of the most surprising matter; but I was 
impatient to make you acquainted with so many illustrious cha- 
racters first. Having effected that, I shall communicate the rest — 
not only all they did, but all they said. In the mean time let me 
invite you to study diligently that which is in your hands. You 
are as yet only in the porch of this magnificent edifice which I 
am erecting to learning: but every other part, yea even to the 
closets and chambers, shall be thrown open. With all due hu- 
mility, I earnestly and modestly believe that there is no one 
better calculated for your guide than myself. Is there any man 
who possesses either more fancy or more learning ? I can let 
you into the secrets of literature better than most other persons, 
because I am far more candid, and thoroughly acquainted with 
them. I can tell you things of wise and learned men, and of 
men who are neither wise nor learned, which will harrow up your 
very soul, and make their bristles " like quills upon the fretful 
porcupine." 
« For the present, most gentle Reader, 

FAREWELL. 



.n\ 



SLATTER AND MUNDAY, PRINTERS, OXFORD. 



\ 



CORRIGENDA. 



Page 4. 1. 14. for reo^ret, read reject. 

7, Note. Spital Sermon. 

11. 1. 18. for /zasty, read 72asty. 

36. 1. 13. Tlie studious, &c. read He studious. 

38. 1. 9. Dim scarf or shovel that, read or shovel hat. 

Note. J his great stumbling, &c. read His great, &e. 

45. Note, for ccvxtiV read oe.vr(iv, 

46. Note. Poor Tom Warton's " J)Me clock swinging slow 

with sweepy sway." 

49. 1, 5. the hats 'gau wail ! read the cats 'gan wail. 

54. 1. 5. Terrestrial Jack, a new character, after a break. 

59, 1. 2. Dele comma after bard. 

The Greek quotations, and the references to different authors* 
will serve as a charming exercise for my learned and critical 
readers. I am not the only great man who writes an almost 
illegible hand, or who is too lazy to correct the blunders which 
it has occasioned. These references are misplaced, and these 
quotations are misprinted, through my negligence alone. The 
learned may discover and amend them ; and the unlearned may 
depend upon this assurance, in imitation of Steele, that where 
any thing is unintelligible it is witty. 



4 



^ 



I 



I 



I 



I 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




014 153 190 6 • 



